


love in slow motion

by ignitesthestars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:18:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6308635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignitesthestars/pseuds/ignitesthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time James says <i>I love you</i> is not the same time that Lily says it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love in slow motion

Lily Evans is thirteen years old and James Potter is a _prat._ **  
**

“Come on, Evans.” They’re in the Common Room, with more than one curious eye on them over the top of an essay. The prat in question goes to lean against the staircase banister, and misjudges the distance.

Lily doesn’t bother to hide her snort as he stumbles for a second, before righting himself and following up with a compulsive sweep through his hair.

“It was a _joke_ ,” he insists.

“One, don’t past tense at me,” she snaps back. “That jinx is still on him. He’s been trailing slime for three days!”

“It’s grease.”

Lily pulls out her wand. But a titter of giggles rises in the room, and Potter is grinning now. Ever the sodding showman.

“Anyway, if he hadn’t sabotaged my potion the other day, I wouldn’t have tested out my new jinx on him. As it stands, I thought you’d be into it. Charms are right up your alley, right?”

She narrows her eyes. The grin, she realises, is just as much for her as the rest of the room. There’s a goofy edge to it, like an over-eager puppy. A flicker of irritation lights in her gut, because he’s right. She’s been trying to figure out how he made the jinx on Severus impervious to _Finite Incantatem_ for two and a half of those three days.

“I had a second point,” she says, deciding that ignorance is the best policy. “Take it off him.”

“Is that really a point?” Potter appeals to the rest of the room. “Sounds more like a request me, don’t you think, folks?”

A couple of younger students pipe up their agreement. They immediately pipe down again when Lily’s gaze sweeps the room soon after, flashing fire.

“Take it _off_ him.”

“I could tell you how I did it,” he offers, and oh he thinks he’s on a roll now. When he leans against the banister this time, it’s all cocky assurance, like he’s got her right where he wants her. “You’re a brilliant witch, Evans, you could reverse engineer it no problem.”

He’s not wrong about that either.

“Take. It. Off. Him.”

Potter sighs. It is a theatrical, obnoxious gesture, made more so by the way he spreads his hands right after. “I’ll remove the jinx if you go on a date with me.”

Lily’s hand moves before her brain has really processed what she’s going to do. And by the time that happens, the waistband of James Potter’s underwear is already jerking up from under his trousers, and the whole Common Room hears his sharp and sudden inhalation before he hits the ground with the mother of all wedgies.

“Never mind, then,” she announces. “I’ll figure it out myself.”

And she gives him her back.

“How did you do that?” Potter wheezes from the floor.

Lily starts walking.

“God, I love you,” he decides.

“ _Ugh_.”

* * *

The words stick in her throat every time she goes to say them, and she isn’t sure why.

It doesn’t bother James. That might make her feel it all the more. The words trip off his tongue without second thought - when she brings a second mug of coffee to his early morning Quidditch practices, when they sneak up to the Astronomy tower, when she leans over his shoulder when he’s doing his Charms homework and asks pointed questions until he figures out the answer.

“Hey,” he laughs, when they’re tangled up together near the Lake, warding off the late-winter chill with each other. “I’ve been letting it all hang out since I was thirteen. Didn’t seem much point in packing it all up once I finally wore you down.”

“You did not wear me down.”

“Ah, competitive Evans strikes again–”

She shoves a hand over his mouth. It is, she’s noticed, one of the most effective ways of getting him to shut up sometimes. “You didn’t wear me down,” she repeats. “I reached an independent conclusion and acted on it.”

His mouth twitches under her hand, the curve of a smile etching itself into her palm. She rolls her eyes, fond, replacing the hand with her mouth.

That’s the other way of getting him to shut up.

She thinks that the feelings she has for James are unlike anything she’s ever felt before, and maybe that’s a little terrifying. She thinks that there’s another boy she might have had feelings for once, and that seeing him in the halls still hurts sometimes. She thinks that she’s seventeen, and that’s too young to know anything about anything serious at all. She thinks there’s a war going on outside the walls of Hogwarts, and that they’re both planning on doing something about that, and that maybe getting tangled up with someone right now is a bad idea.

Lily thinks she might be overthinking this.

It is the stupidest, smallest thing that does it in the end. She’d be embarrassed for herself, if it hadn’t all worked out so well.

It’s past midnight and she’s in the Common Room to avoid disturbing her roommates, bent over some extra credit for Slughorn. She’d dimly noted James leaving earlier, but had assumed he’d long since returned to bed. There had been a kiss on her check at some point there, probably.

She’s scribbling out a bad formula when she notices the treacle tart.

It’s just sitting there. On the desk. Where she’s sure that there had been no treacle tart before. She blinks, and there’s a goblet of orange juice next to it.

It’s not the strangest thing that’s ever happened at Hogwarts. But it’s late, and Lily’s brain is operating on a whole different plane to reality right now. It takes her a moment, two, before it occurs to her that the food probably has a source.

She twists in her chair, and sure enough, there’s James Potter, standing behind her with an armful of food and a chelsea bun hanging from his mouth. Jarred from her groove, her first instinct is to frown.

His fingers twitch - and there’s a wand pinched precariously between two of them, she notices. The food soars from his arms and lines itself up neatly on the table. Arms free, he tears off a mouthful of bun. Chews, swallows, grins.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to tell you stop. I value my life.”

“Then what–?”

He shrugs. It’s a loose, languid motion that’s just so very _James Potter_ , she can’ help but smile. “You missed dinner. As your dutiful boyfriend, I am providing.”

“You should be sleeping.”

“Chelsea buns and watching that cute furrow on your brow when you’re concentrating seemed like more fun.”

He says it lightly, like it’s a joke. But there’s - something there. A simple affection colouring his words, that colours most of their interactions. It doesn’t just come from him. More and more, she’s been noticing herself reciprocating.

He just wants to be around her. Even if she’s studying and saying nothing. And she feels the same way, happy to just have him there while she works, a solid presence at her back.

Silently, she jerks her head to the comfy armchair nearby. He grins again, bumping a sticky kiss over her forehead as he swings towards the seat.

“Eurgh.” She rubs at the sugar with a huff, pointing at him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

At first, she doesn’t even realised. Her mind is full of sweet treats and potions ingredients, and maybe it would have seemed completely unremarkable altogether if it weren’t for the way he freezes. Not dramatically, and not longer than half a second, but the space between them suddenly acquires a weight that wasn’t there before, and Lily–

“Love you too, Lils,” he says, casual as anything, dropping into the arm chair.

For a moment, their eyes meet. And there is a wealth of everything there, a million other things neither of them have said that are somehow encapsulated in one simple exchange.

He flaps his hand at her. “Come on, chop chop. Back to work with you.”

She throws a sponge cake at him. He catches it out of the air in his teeth, and they both grin goofily at each other before she finally dips her head, returning to her work and the treacle tart.


End file.
